Stumbling
by abmulcairn
Summary: Trying to escape a traumatic past in Arizona, Bella makes a series of bad decisions that land her admitted to Forks Psychiatric/Mental Hospital where she meets a group of other damaged teens and a mysterious green-eyed boy. Is she willing to let anyone in to help her? All Human, OOC, AU, Contains Dark Themes - Read with caution! M for violence, language and themes!


**Stumbling**

Started 07/09/2012

Chapter One

**Warning – Contains dark themes, sexual scenes, and other potentially offensive material**

A/N – hi this is my first fanfiction. It's quite dark so sorry if anyone doesn't like that! Don't read this if it would upset you, I don't want to upset anyone! Its AU, everyone is human and all the Cullens are in canon. So thank you for reading, please review/recommend, it would mean a lot! I love you all xoxox

**XOXO**

**BPOV**

I ran straight back home, fighting through the Arizonian heat, the burn building in my legs and the bile in the back of my throat. My only thoughts were to get as far away from that room as possible, to never have to see that man again, no matter what it took. I knew the reality of that thought was highly improbable. I'd vowed to myself a hundred times that I would escape, get away from this torture.

"Bells, you are disgusting." "Bells, you have been ruined. You are a filthy little slut. No boy will ever want you." "Bells, you tell Phil I want that money in my hand before 10am tomorrow or expect a repeat of tonight." As I ran through the dry grassland behind our house the memories flooded my mind. I shivered. The sharp feeling of his hand on the back of my neck, his spit hitting my face as he pronounced every word, the coiling of my stomach as a I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

I needed to get away from the den, from any feelings that lingered in my ruined state. As I ran further through the shrub land I could see the small cottage appearing over the horizon, yet I gained not even an ounce of relief at the sight. I pushed and pushed my legs, faster and faster until it felt like I was flying above the ground. Brown wisps of hair whipped me in the face and stuck to the moisture that had built up.

I had no concept of time anymore. I could have been running for 5 minutes or for 50 and I wouldn't have known. I didn't care to know. There was only one thing I desired at that moment. I wanted to be free from everything. Free from the abyss that had become my life if only it were for a few minutes.

I eventually caught up to the house I had been chasing through the haze. The world was spinning around me. A layer of heat suspended over the hot ground shimmered like an electrical field forcing me feet forwards towards the backdoor. Reaching down, I found the spare key hidden under the plant pot. Once I was into the house I screamed, or maybe whispered the names of Renee and Phil. I got no reply.

Nobody was home. I was alone. Alone? The thought was completely alien to me, and I laughed manically in the silence of the cottage. I was not alone, I never was. My head played host to thousands of people, clawing at every ounce of my sanity. They inhabited me as if my body was purely just a vessel to contain them. They owned me. Every breath I took was for them. I was existing. I was a play toy.

I was nothing.

I'd lived in Arizona with Renee and Phil since I was 4. My Dad, Charlie still lives in Forks. Renee grabbed me when I was young and fled to the state without as much as a goodbye to my Dad. I hadn't seen him since then. He made no effort to contact me or to see me, so I assumed that he was as indifferent towards my existence and Renee seemed to be to his.

My hell began when I was 7. Phil Dwyer was the man Renee fled Forks to be with. I didn't understand why she dragged me with her, as she acted like I was a hindrance ever since then. It was made clear that Bella Swan was not the top priority and that was fine with me. I wanted to fade into the walls. I didn't like attention. That wasn't a result of this lifestyle; I had always been that way.

I was nothing.

It'd be pointless for me to demand anything from life when I had nothing to offer to life in return. Sometimes I wonder how differently my life would have turned out if I stayed in Forks with Charlie. The image is surprisingly unappealing. I don't imagine myself feeling at home anywhere.

I stumbled towards a familiar room. The walls were blurring, blood was pouring from my stomach and the gashes burned when the fabric of my shirt brushed against them. It was probably a combination of dehydration, exhaustion and sleep deprivation that had me stumbling towards the nearest wall.

I slid down it next to the wicker drawers where Renee kept all of her herbal medicines. She believed in the magical healing properties that plants and herbs would bring her. She didn't use them as a drug she told me; she used them to fight any signs that she might be growing older. The biggest problems in Renee's life were the wrinkles on her face, and the fast approaching greying stage of aging. Renee had some idea of what had been going on but showed no signs of trying to stop it.

She was erratic and hair-brained and my best friend. But she wasn't a mother. She talked to me about boys (or tried to) and was completely open to letting me try alcohol in her presence at the age of 16. But she wasn't there to hold my hair up when I was being sick or to help me with my homework. I was second best to Phil, and always had been since he had come into our lives.

I didn't know the extent of Renee's knowledge. I knew she was involved in the discussions and the shady backstreet deals and she certainly noticed the change that had happened in me. But she remained either blissfully unaware of the extent of my torture, or ignored it in order to remain on Phil's good side.

Escape. I needed escape. Not the escape of distance, of pain, of admittance. I needed a total escape. The physical pain I could deal with. I had dealt with it for many more years that when I felt that blow it didn't shock. I didn't flinch. I didn't speak. I did nothing.

I was nothing.

I sometimes felt it strange the way I compartmentalized pain. When I was in that place, in the Den, I was completely calm. If I was afraid I never let it be known, that would only encourage. I made sure that I showed no emotion. If I recoiled even slightly then they would sweep in like vultures and prey on the broken girl. They take advantage of any obvious discomfort; they feed on it, live for it. Live to make others feel small and insignificant. However when I was at Arizona High, the only other form of social interaction I was permitted or wanted to attend I was a completely different person.

I was terrified of the unknown. At least when I was called down to the Den I knew what I was up against, _who _I was up against. I could gauge how they were feeling and could anticipate my punishment for that day. But when I was alone, I was paralyzed in fear. There was the constant threat of anyone being part of the gang. The kids at school mainly ignored me and stayed out of my way, which suited me just fine. It did not however rid me of the fear that anyone of them could be an imposter sent to spy on me. To make sure I was keeping quiet about them. No matter where I went, or who I was with I could not get away from it.

There was only one way I could escape.

It was the only thing on my mind as I sat dizzy and disorientated on the floor of the tiled cage. I pushed down every sensation and memory and focused every bit of energy I had left. Nothing I had was reason enough to keep living. I needed to disappear. Not just for my sake.

My hand reached out and sought the bottle. Put hand out. Find third draw down. Slide open and reach hand back. Black bottle. White cap. Round lid.

Take.

Unscrew.

Lift.

Pour.

Swallow.

Consume.

_Numb._


End file.
